


Raindrops

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, KinKuniKage Week, M/M, Rainy Days, reparations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 02:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Kindaichi is stranded without an umbrella, but there's enough room under Kageyama's for Kindaichi and maybe for some mended fences, too.





	Raindrops

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day 2 of KinKuniKage Week: Growth/Rain will make the flower grow. I love the idea of them being unable to hide from their beef and having nothing to do other than work on it. Time and distance do a lot to make wounded teenage boys realize that somethings just don't matter anymore.

Kindaichi knows the answer already, but he wonders if he is, in fact, an idiot.

He isn’t sure what he was expecting, walking out of the house without an umbrella and without checking the weather forecast — in October. However, he certainly knows what he gets for it, and that’s  _ wet. _ Not just stray moisture soaking into his clothes; no, his hair is plastered to his skin along with every item of clothing he’s ever worn, and he’s pretty sure he’s inadvertently swallowed enough rain water to drown himself in.

Desperate for a respite from the inhospitable conditions, Kindaichi dives under the first awning he spots — a stairway leading to upstairs apartments over a manga shop. Sighing in relief, he drops down on the steps and dashes away as much of the water as he can before peeling his sodden club jacket from his torso.

“Oh, man,” he grumbles as he holds out his jacket and wrings out an obscene amount of water, and with a huff, he drops back against the stairs and stares at the ceiling above him.

He nearly puts the jacket back on when the chill in the air finally catches up with his no longer mobile limbs, and it’s only a few minutes before Kindaichi’s teeth are chattering so hard he nearly bites his tongue. Hands briskly rubbing his arms, Kindaichi rocks back and forth, desperate to coax his blood to flow a little faster and warm his goose-pimpled flesh. 

“Are you okay?” comes a startlingly familiar voice from the base of the stairs. 

Kindaichi nearly tumbles down in surprise when he realizes that this concerned passer-by is none other than his old nemesis, Kageyama Tobio — someone he hasn’t thought about since the end of his last inter-high tournament of his high school career. Gaping at Kageyama, who’s a little taller and broader than he remembers, but the hair and the eyes and the expressionless face are all the same, safely tucked under a huge umbrella.

Letting out a wry chuckle at his luck, Kindaichi shakes his head. “Oh, everything’s just  _ great _ . Just enjoying a pneumonia-inducing shower.”

Kageyama stares at him for a strange fifteen seconds before the corner of his mouth curls upward just a bit and something suspiciously resembling a chuckle escapes. “I have room,” he says as he budges to the far side of the umbrella’s coverage area and casts a meaningful glance at the patch of pavement next to him. “My place isn’t far.”

_ I know that! _ dies on Kindaichi’s tongue as he takes in Kageyama’s expectant expression. The idea of going to Kageyama’s house is akin to swimming with sharks or diving headfirst into a bear’s den, but when a gust of wind swirls through the cramped stairwell and cuts into Kindaichi’s saturated skin like a thousand needles, he closes his eyes and lolls his head back in a tired groan as he assesses his options and realize he has only one. “Fine.”

Donning his soaked jacket if only to keep some of the wind out, Kindaichi dashes under Kageyama’s umbrella. He is immediately aware of their proximity, and of the fact that their shoulders have to touch in order for them both to fit beneath it. But after a few strides, he can’t bring himself to complain that the only source of warmth in his entire body is what he is managing to sponge off of Kageyama. Yet as they walk, Kageyama seems to either not notice or not care as he guides them through an alley to cut some distance from their journey. 

Kindaichi almost cries out in relief when he sees the outline of Kageyama’s larger-than-average suburban house. He looks to his side, and a moment of unspoken agreement passes between them as they break out in an almost freakishly coordinated sprint until they reach the porch with both of them still under the umbrella. Leaning against the side of the house, Kindaichi struggles to catch his breath while once again trying to force a little bit of heat into his extremities. 

As soon as the door is unlocked, Kageyama ushers Kindaichi inside and gives a gruff “wait here” before dashing off, Kindaichi assumes, to get a towel or something to keep from making a sloppy mess of the spotless  _ genkan _ . What he doesn’t expect, however, is the large fluffy bath robe Kageyama returns with instead. 

“Leave your wet clothes here and wear this. I’ll get a bag.” Without asking if Kindaichi minds terribly stripping in someone else’s entryway, Kageyama thrusts the robe into Kindaichi’s hands and darts off to complete his mission. Staring at the soft terrycloth robe in his hands, Kindaichi is surprised to find that it’s warm to the touch, and after a little bit of thought and a bit more shivering, he relents and begins peeling away layer after sodden layer of his school uniform.

Kindaichi is stripped down to his socks and underwear when Kageyama returns with a plastic shopping bag. Cheeks red, he takes the robe and hastily covers his front, earning himself a raised brow and a shrug from Kageyama as he leans down to pluck Kindaichi’s wet clothes from the floor and stuff them into the bag.

“I’ll put these in the wash,” he says before leaving Kindaichi alone once again with his strange show of modesty.

Both of them have been in and out of changing rooms since they were twelve, with three of those years being in the  _ same _ changing rooms. He can’t think of a single good reason why he should be shy in front of Kageyama, but as his former teammate and then rival stares him down, Kindaichi can’t help but feel exposed in more than body.

Shaking off such ridiculous thoughts, Kindaichi properly shrugs into the robe before shimmying out of his now-frigid underwear and following Kageyama to the back of the house to add it to the laundry. He finds the door to an almost monstrous bathroom hanging open, and inside he finds Kageyama loading the washing machine. Kindaichi heaves a sigh of relief when he sees his school jacket and tie hanging from an overhead rack.

Kageyama turns to give him room to toss in the rest before starting the load. He casts a pointed look at the shower. “Did you want to warm up in the shower? I can order something hot to eat.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” Kindaichi blurts, his head spinning with the utter strangeness of Kageyama’s cordial and polite behavior. “I am bothering you enough.”

Shaking his head, Kageyama says, “I would’ve ordered anyway. I, um —” His cheeks pinken. “I can’t cook.”

Kindaichi snorts before he can stop himself. “You should see Kunimi. Dude can burn water.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds before chortling together in a suspicious moment of camaraderie. Kindaichi can’t believe the sound he’s hearing, realizing that in the six years he’s known Kageyama, it’s the first time he’s heard the other boy laugh. It’s a nerdy laugh, nasally and reminiscent of a childish cartoon, but with the way Kageyama’s eyes squeeze shut and his nose wrinkles, it just  _ feels _ right.

Feeling warmer than he has since he made his mad dash from the school, Kindaichi gives Kageyama a lopsided smile and says, “Nah. Give me a little bit, and I’ll see if I can make something.”

Kageyama’s eyes widen. “You can cook?”

“A little,” Kindaichi fibs, not eager to volunteer the fact that he has fended for himself for years while his mother works multiple jobs to support him. “I’m sure there’s something hanging around I can whip up.”

With an earnest nod, Kageyama leaves Kindaichi alone in the bathroom to let the warm water of the shower’s magnificent water pressure rinse the chill from his skin until he’s pink from head to toe. Exiting the shower feeling better than he has in hours, Kindaichi hums as he towels off his hair and slips back into the robe.

He finds Kageyama in the kitchen pulling two mugs from the microwave. Two bags of generic green tea drop into the cups, and as Kindaichi approaches, Kageyama slides one of them in his direction. “Thanks.”

The warmth of the vapor conspires against Kindaichi’s rapidly swelling well-being, and he can’t help but let his eyelids droop as he smiles serenely. “This is nice,” he murmurs as he takes a sip of the just-a-little-too-hot tea.

When his declaration is met with silence, Kindaichi looks over at Kageyama, who’s eyeing him over the rim of his own mug, his face inscrutable. His good mood slipping, Kindaichi’s brow knits as he grumbles, “You’re looking at me like  _ I’m _ the weird one.”

Kageyama jolts to attention, eyes wide as he shakes his head. “No! I was just thinking.” He reddens and averts his eyes. “I do that sometimes. Sorry.”

A twinge of guilt gnaws at Kindaichi’s gut until he heaves a tired sigh. “Sorry, man. I guess I’m just so used to waiting for you to turn into a douche that I forgot you’re actually pretty chill when you’re nowhere near a volleyball.” He winces. “And that was pretty damn rude. Sorry again.” Kindaichi lets his forehead drop to the table between them. “I sound like a jackass.”

“It’s okay,” Kageyama says softly. “I never realized what I was like back then, but I hurt you a lot and I’m sorry.”

Kindaichi harrumphs as he props his chin on his palm and gives Kageyama a wry smile. “The crazy part is that I’ve known that since that first practice match, but I’ve been too big of a pissbaby since then to tell you.” He rolls his eyes. “Kunimi’s words, not mine, but well . . . he wasn’t wrong.”

His hands nervous and itchy to escape this awkward conversation, Kindaichi slides from his chair and heads toward the refrigerator. “Let’s see what we can do about dinner.” 

After some rooting around, Kindaichi finds some mostly-defrosted pork, a pot of curry paste, a nearly-expired can of coconut milk, and plenty of rice to make a decent meal of it. The vegetable crisper yields a couple of shallots and some too-soft potatoes, but he’s worked with less before and sets to work making a respectable meal for the two of them. 

Kindaichi nearly jumps out of his skin when he realizes that Kageyama is hovering behind him, watching wide-eyed as his practiced hands slice and dice. He idly wonders how Kageyama survives like this, whether his mother either does all the cooking or if he haunts the takeout menus of every restaurant in a two kilometer radius.

Soon the rich smell of curry fills the room while an ill-used rice cooker sends out cheery little puffs of steam, and Kindaichi retires back to the table to finish his tea and keep an eye out. Kageyama does the same, and they sit in silence that’s only broken by the scrape of Kindaichi’s chair as he occasionally gets up to stir.

Their dinner is done quickly, and Kindaichi doles out a generous bowl for each of them before heading back to the table. He hands one of them to Kageyama, and part of him writhes in glee as the proffered meal is eyed with something akin to lust before a garbled blessing kicks off their meal in a hurry. Kindaichi watches with an almost morbid fascination as Kageyama wolfs down the curry, only stopping to drain his tea halfway through. He finishes with a hum of satisfaction as he leans back in his chair and splays his arms. “So good.”

Not nearly done with his own, Kindaichi chuckles. “Glad you like it, but maybe chew next time so you don’t choke.”

Kageyama pulls a face, and Kindaichi can’t help but burst into laughter. “Loser,” he scoffs, but his smile lingers as he polishes off his meal in a far more comfortable silence. Once he’s finished, he lets Kageyama clear the table and do the dishes while he makes another round of tea, moving around this foreign kitchen like he’s lived there forever.

They retire to the living room where Kindaichi wraps himself in a soft throw blanket on the couch, relishing the luxurious warmth that has pervaded his entire being. But rather than disturb his languorous mood, Kageyama’s quiet presence adds to it as he mindlessly flips through his phone. 

He doesn’t realize he is staring until Kageyama blinks at him and tilts his head in question. Kindaichi tugs the blanket over his face and gives a muffled, “Sorry!”

Kageyama leans over and tugs away the hem of the blanket like nothing is amiss and asks, “Do you want to ask your mom if you can stay the night? It’s not going to stop raining.”

Kindaichi’s instinct is to emphatically decline and dash off into the night without his clothes or his books, but he bites his tongue and entreats the higher reasoning portion of his brain to answer the question instead. Kageyama is guileless and earnest, and from the moment he stopped at that stairwell, he’s done nothing but treat Kindaichi like a friend and not the bitter rivals they’ve painted each other as for the past three years. The boy looking at him from across the couch isn’t an opponent or a predatory maniac or even a king; he’s something Kindaichi hasn’t known him as since they were in their first year of middle school.

He’s just  _ Tobio _ .

Cocking a nervous smile, Kindaichi says, “Yeah. That’ll be cool, as long as your folks are fine with it.”

Shrugging, Kageyama says, “They won’t be home until tomorrow. They’re at a business conference in Tokyo.”

“Oh.” At the thought of spending nights by himself in a house this large, Kindaichi feels a lot lonelier than he did a moment before. “Do they leave a lot?”

Kageyama nods as he turns his attention back toward his phone, and suddenly his lack of cooking skill makes a lot more sense. Kindaichi can fend for himself because his mom made sure he could; Kageyama lives off takeout because no one bothered to show him how to do anything else. 

“I’ll text her and let her know.” Kindaichi looks away, finding that he can’t look at Kageyama anymore. Partly because he isn’t sure what to say, but also because he doesn’t know if Kageyama realizes how empty this house really is. What had seemed like upper middle class luxury now reeks of walls devoid of the hallmarks of childhood and love. A new survey of the room comes up empty of pictures or ribbons he’s sure Kageyama has collected for any sports he’s played. 

An impulse takes over Kindaichi, and he doesn’t try very hard to stop it at all as he wraps his arms around Kageyama and squeezes his shoulders for a bracing hug. He feels Kageyama stiffen at first, but quickly he relaxes and sags into Kindaichi’s embrace until their foreheads lightly rest against each other. Something oozes out of Kageyama, and for the first time in a long time, Kindaichi feels like the things that happened between them in the past no longer matter. Middle school Kageyama is gone, and so is his old counterpart in Kindaichi. Now they’re just two boys hiding together from the rain and maybe a little bit from an empty house.

Soon Kindaichi’s grip slackens and he melts back into the couch, unmindful of Kageyama’s weight as he follows suit, his face buried in the crook of Kindaichi’s arm as the soft wheeze of sleep trickles into the room. The sound is so soft and  _ normal _ that is brings a serene smile to Kindaichi’s ace as he follows suit.

Kindaichi awakens in the middle of the night cold and with a wicked crick in his neck and alone. It’s only after a few groggy glances around the room that he realizes that what he’s missing is Kageyama. He drops wobbling legs onto the cool floorboards and wanders around the room until he’s sure Kageyama hasn’t fallen on the floor or something. Next, he expands his search to the kitchen and then to the bathroom. 

Sure Kageyama has just retreated to his own bed, Kindaichi decides to make use of the bathroom and head back to the couch for the rest of the night. However, he’s nearly sent sprawling when his foot contacts something and sends him stumbling into the shower door. “Damn it,” he hisses, groping for the light switch only to gasp when he finally sheds light on the source of the obstruction. “What are you doing in here?”

Kageyama doesn’t answer, his face buried in his knees as he huddles against the tub, his shoulders shaking. Kindaichi swallows a rapidly growing lump in his throat and sits on the floor next to Kageyama and sighs. “I wish I knew what was happening right now. I don’t know if I did something wrong, so if I did I’m sorry, man.”

Shaking his head vehemently, Kageyama says, “It’s not you. I’m just confused and tired and I don’t know what to do.”

“You wanna tell me about it?” Kindaichi cringes at the offer. He has no idea how to counsil a regular person through some sort of personal crisis, let alone someone he understands as little as Kageyama, but the offer is there and he finds that resolving this late night crisis is pretty damn important to him. 

Kageyama finally looks at Kindaichi with red-rimmed eyes, but instead of pouring his heart out as invited, he reaches up and runs his fingers through Kindaichi’s hair. His breath catching at the unexpected contact, Kindaichi can’t make himself do anything but allow this trembling exploration. The air in his chest is already starting to burn by the time those long and dextrous digits drift down to trace the curve of his cheek, the pleasant tingle of the contact making him turn into the touch.. 

All at once, his lungs evacuate and the feeling is gone. Kindaichi watches as a wide-eyed Kageyama spiders away from him, looking very much like he would like to throw up. He can’t say he’s surprised when he replays the past few moments in his head and how hard the reality of it had to come crashing down on Kageyama for him to recoil like that.

Kindaichi reaches up and touches his face, looking back and forth from his trembling free hand to a still-reeling Kageyama as the pieces fall in place.

“Oh.” He lurches to his feet and offers Kageyama a hand, which is quickly rejected. Kindaichi rolls his eyes and hefts Kageyama off the floor by the first available limb (his forearm). There is precious little room to hide, and Kindaichi finds it oddly satisfying. This time, it’s Kindaichi’s curious fingers mapping out the feel of Kageyama, who sways into his every touch like Kindaichi had thought he might. 

But as Kindaichi’s journey ends at the soft thrust of Kageyama’s chin, large blue eyes bore into him in askance, and he has no answer other than to brush their mouths together in the barest of contact. Long lashes flutter closed as Kageyama lists back against the wall, lips parting as he groans under his breath.

Kindaichi understands now that he had read the mood absolutely right, and also that he just kissed Kageyama freaking Tobio. The insane part, he muses, is that he would totally do it again.

Lips crush together in a frenzy as they suddenly seek each other out in the same fevered moment. Kageyama’s fingers dig into Kindaichi’s biceps as Kindaichi’s fingers burrow harshly into Kageyama’s soft, silken hair. It feels longer than a few seconds before they push apart, heaving for breath and as shocked at each other as they are at themselves. 

“So that happened,” Kindaichi pants as he drops down onto the toilet seat. “It’s a lot less gross than it looks.” He winces at his own babble, but Kindaichi has to find something,  _ anything _ to do other than look over at Kageyama and see the disgust that has to be there. 

Kageyama doesn’t have those kinds of feelings for Kindaichi; he  _ can’t _ . With all the dumb crap that has gone on between them in the past, there is no plausible way that a regular dude could see past all that and still want something else. Let alone Kageyama.

Yet as he hazards a glance over, Kindaichi nearly falls over when he sees the dopey smile on Kageyama’s face as he gingerly touches his lips. Kindaichi’s heart stutters in response to the pure joy on the other boy’s face, and it beats a little faster when he remembers who put it there. “Is that why you’re so weird?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Flushing a deep red, Kageyama looks away and Kindaichi has his answer. With a snort, he crosses the breadth of the bathroom and takes Kageyama’s hand in his. This time, there is no resistance as he coaxes Kageyama to his feet and toward the door. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah.” 

This time, they bypass the couch and head straight for Kageyama’s room, his full-size bed large enough for both of them to curl up into each other and drop off almost instantly.

Kindaichi’s eyes burn as the sun trickles through the curtains to drag him out of his slumber. But as he tries to extricate himself from the bed, an arm lurches out and drags him back down. 

“School,” Kindaichi reminds him sleepily.

“Saturday,” Kageyama argues, eyes still screwed shut. “No school.”

Groaning, Kindaichi explains, “Maybe for you. I have a half day.” 

Kageyama shakes his head and wraps his limbs around Kindaichi, burying his face in Kindaichi’s chest as he shakes his head. “Don’t go.”

It’s irresponsible, he knows it is, but Kindaichi has done the right thing all through high school when it comes to attendance, so it’s only with a little shred of guilt that he relents and says, “Okay. I won’t go.”

At once, Kageyama’s entire body relaxes, and he is out within seconds. Kindaichi can’t help but envy the guy’s sleep reflex as he waits to drift off again himself. But as he does, he allows himself to look over at the guy wrapped around his torso, his usually taut expression loose and free as he sleeps. The guy he hadn’t talked to in years before the previous day, and now they’re tangled in one another, begging off the day’s responsibility just to be near one another just a little bit longer. The guy he never knew but now can’t believe he never saw before.

Kindaichi leans over to plant a kiss on Kageyama’s cheek as he reminds himself to drop a few coins into the fountain at the shrine on New Years to thank the gods for a fortunate bout of rain.

 

**Author's Note:**

> :')


End file.
